Stargate Atlantis:  Fool's Gold
by the morrighan
Summary: My version of a series six. This is the third story.
1. Chapter 1

Stargate Atlantis: Fool's Gold

"Sheppard?"

Ronon Dex's question was left unsaid, but John Sheppard understood all the same. He gestured and the Satdedan nodded, flanking right as Jason Reynolds, a marine who was temporarily assigned to the team flanked left. As the wormhole dissolved behind them John shrugged and stepped past the DHD. It was a beautiful day. Bright blue skies gleamed above verdant fields and whispering grains. Not far from the Stargate a village stood, smoke curling from several chimneys.

It was idyllic. It was peaceful. It made John suspicious.

"What?" he asked, seeing Teyla Emmagan's scowl. Unlike the men she had neglected to draw her weapon, and stood with empty hands.

"We are in no danger, colonel. These are my people." At last the dialing system on Atlantis was fully operational, and they were able to get a lock onto New Athosia.

"It never hurts to be cautious. Remember our last encounter with so-called friendlies?" John recalled.

"These are my people," Teyla reiterated, as if that negated their previous bad experience. "This way. I am sure my people are already heading for the Stargate to welcome us."

John nodded and followed Teyla down the hill towards the village. They followed a pathway between waving fields of grain, beyond the trees that towered like sentinels in the distance. Birds were singing and the sun was shining and a mild breeze blew. Yet John could not dispel the feeling of unease and his fingers imperceptibly tightened on his P90. He could have attributed the feeling to not having Rodney on the mission. The physicist was still in mourning for his almost fiancée, and John thought it best that Rodney stay in the city for a week or two.

John considered. It wasn't the lack of Rodney's continual talking that had him on edge.  
>It was something else. Something he couldn't identify yet.<p>

"Teyla!"

A joyous shout greeted the team as they reached the edge of the village. People were rushing towards them. Men, women, and children all united in surprise and happiness as they smiled and shouted and gestured.

Teyla smiled, glancing at John to give him an I-told-you-so look before being engulfed. She greeted many by name and exchanged formal forehead to forehead acknowledgements before hugs replaced them. Ronon and Jason joined them, relaxing at the friendliness until a hush fell upon the Athosians and the all parted, leaving Teyla standing alone.

John took a step to be next to her as Halling emerged. The tall Athosian man was growing out his curly hair, and it fell in amber waves around his stern expression. He stepped to Teyla. The two formally greeted each other, Halling having to bend down quite a ways to touch his forehead to Teyla's. It was almost comical, and John felt a smile forming on his lips.

Until Halling straightened to his full height and slapped the smaller woman across the face.

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Carson Beckett was shaking his head over the microscope. "You're right. The chemical reaction is the same, but it's not. There's a striking difference after the initial burst of adrenaline that led to the extreme reaction of complete and utter dehydration. The biochemical makeup of the enzyme has been significantly altered."

"Closer to that of the Iratus bug," a woman next to him said, also staring into a microscope.

"Yes, exactly, but not exactly either," Carson mused, rubbing his chin as he sat back from the microscope. His blue eyes narrowed in thought. "It does explain the way he fed, however, and his increased speed and abilities, to a point."

"Let me run a cross comparison to what little we have left of the bug's DNA sequencing," the woman said. She stood, grabbed a data pad and moved to leave. "Where's an entomologist when you need one?" she jested.

Carson smiled. "That's why you're here, love."

"Thanks, Carson," she griped, but smiled at him. "More bugs," she sighed.

"Afraid so, love. Just the enzyme this time, however. Let me know what you find. The…" He broke off, turning to see Rodney McKay standing near, staring at him. "Rodney? What is it?"

"How long were you planning to keep me trapped here?" the physicist demanded, glancing at the woman as she passed before returning his glare to the doctor. "Grounded like a little boy!" he fumed. "As if I wasn't mentally competent enough to go on missions and make vital contributions to the survival of this city and to conduct important physics experiments that may or may not but probably will prove the existence of dark matter and the practical applications of cold fusion and the—"

"It's only been a few days," Carson reasoned, quickly interjecting as words flew from Rodney's mouth, unstoppable.

"It's been a week, Carson! What if my team needs me? I'm fine! I can return to active duty, damn it! I don't need to be coddled like a child!"

"Very well. Give it one more day and I will inform Woolsey you are fit for active duty," Carson decided, seeing his friend's utter determination.

"Thank you." Rodney hesitated. For all of his blustering and anger he suddenly found himself at a loss as to what to do. "What was that all about? The enzyme? The way that Todd killed, killed her?" He couldn't quite say her name, not yet. The image of Jennifer Keller's emaciated, dehydrated, aged corpse filled his mind but he blinked it away rapidly.

He tried to remember her the way she had been when alive. Beautiful. Youthful. Vibrant.

Compassion filled the doctor's eyes. "Yes. We're only at the preliminary stages of analysis. When we have a fuller picture I will inform you and John and Richard, but right now all that you need to know is that she didn't suffer. It was quick."

It was a partial lie, but Rodney didn't need to know the entire gruesome truth.

Rodney nodded, quickly changed the subject. "It's not like I don't have a million projects here in the city, you know, and I've been busy with the power configurations and the ZPM output and quite frankly Radek couldn't possibly cope without me and there's the whole problem of being completely cut off from Earth but if my team needed me I should be out there with them instead of here don't you see?"

"Yes, Rodney. I am sure that they need you and I am sure that they are fine. They were going to see the Athosians, right? By now they are probably knee-deep in some harvest festival or under the table drinking their specialty, right? And then there will be fields to inspect and the trading of grains and linens and other sundry items to establish good relations."

Rodney snorted. "True. I don't mind missing all of that, actually."

"Oh? Are you sure? I have heard the Athosians can put on quite a harvest festival and grain exchange, for several hours I am sure."

The men exchanged a quiet laugh.

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"Whoa, whoa! What the hell was that?" John demanded, P90 pointed straight at Halling now. Ronon and Jason moved to either side of the pair, weapons aimed at the crowd as well. Tension road the air and cut across the welcome like a knife.

Teyla rocked from the blow but managed to remain on her feet. She raised one hand, halting the members of her team, as she touched the other to her stinging cheek. Tears filled one eye from the violence but she blinked them aside. She eyed Halling as he stood, silent; waiting. "So. Is this the formal challenge?"

"Yes. You have abrogated your right to be leader of our people," Halling informed.

"Huh? What's going on?" John asked, but both Ronon and Jason appeared equally mystified. At a gesture the two men reluctantly lowered their guns, but John kept his trained on Halling, just in case.

"I will not accept that charge. But I will accept your challenge, Halling, as is your right to issue it with the consent of our people." She glanced at the crowd. Many were nodding their heads, expressions solemn. Even the children were hushed now and solemn.

"Teyla?" John asked, baffled.

She glanced at him. "It is all right, colonel. Please, lower your weapon," she insisted, as one side of her face turned bright red from the blow. "This is an Athosian concern, not yours. I am the leader of our people but only by their assent. At any time anyone can challenge that privilege as long as the majority agrees to it."

"You were our leader before you abandoned us," one accused.

"You were our leader before they came," another asserted.

"You have chosen them over us!" a man declared. Several murmured in assent.

John's fingers tightened on his weapon. The mood of the crowd could become ugly very quickly. He had been in situations like this before and knew they were dangling on a knife's edge between violence and resolution. He glanced at Ronon and Jason. They were feeling the same and they kept their gazes locked on the crowd, stepping slightly so the team was not completely surrounded by them.

Making certain an egress point towards the Stargate was available.

Abruptly the tone of the crowd had gone from welcoming to assessing, from warm to cool. It was a disturbing trend, this sudden hostility towards Atlantis and its team. Although this time it appeared to be directed more towards Teyla and was more personal. It was all the more shocking and confusing for that.

"I did not abandon you," Teyla said calmly, her gaze encompassing the crowd. "I went with Atlantis to help them defend their planet, their home world from the Wraith. It was sudden and unavoidable, but I chose to remain with them to aid them, as they have aided us and countless others many times. We have now returned to lead the fight against the Wraith."

"No." Halling glanced at the men surrounding Teyla but he didn't seem daunted. "You abandoned us for them long before you left this galaxy for theirs. You turned your back on us long before this. You had a child among them and have neglected to raise him in the ways of our people. You have tossed away our traditions for theirs. Teyla Emmagan, I challenge your right of leadership," he announced, voice sonorous and full of gravity.

No one spoke. No one stirred.

Teyla nodded. "I accept, Halling."


	2. Chapter 2

Stargate Atlantis: Fool's Gold2

"Fight? Excuse me?" John quirked a brow, eying the woman in front of him who was perfectly calm, perfectly mild, but a gleam of anticipation shone in her eyes. The crowd did not seem surprised, in fact they appeared relieved.

Teyla took his arm and drew him away from the people. Ronon and Jason followed. She freed his arm to face him. "You do not think I can defeat him?" she asked, amused at his reaction. She had thought he had learned to stop underestimating her.

"No. In fact I am sure you can win, it's not that. But let's face it. Halling's a pretty big guy. Someone might get hurt," John temporized, but it was clear his concern was all for the woman in front of him and not for Halling.

"I have fought larger," Teyla reminded. "Do not be concerned, colonel. It is a ritualistic fight. No one will be seriously injured."

"I see," he replied, unconvinced. "So it's like counting coup."

"What?"

"Never mind." He glanced at Jason, who nodded, understanding the cultural reference, but Ronon appeared baffled. John looked at Teyla. "Are you sure you are up for this? I mean you have a kid now, and a—"

"Having a child has not hampered my abilities or my skills, I can assure you, John! Do you truly believe I am less of a warrior because I have a baby now?"

"No, in fact I think you are more of one now," John backpedaled at the ire of the woman in front of him. He held up his hands in surrender. "I'm just saying that maybe, just maybe your skills might be a little, tiny, inconsequential amount lacking since we've been gone and you've been busy with the baby and all and that OW!" The blow was unexpected, swift and sharp and John fell to his knees, thigh stinging. "Or not," he corrected as he stumbled to his feet.

Ronon snorted amusement, but as Teyla glared at him he sobered, revealing his open hands. Jason wisely kept silent, kept his expression neutral. He knew better than to mess with the Athosian woman. Apparently the colonel had to learn that lesson again.

Teyla glared at John. "Do not underestimate me, colonel. We will learn about the Wraith but first I must prove worthy to continue to lead my people. These are our ways and I will honor them as will you, whether you approve or not."

"I didn't say I didn't approve. I'm just concerned is all and I think we could use the time more wisely by getting the intel we need. Can't you just have a vote or something?"

"A vote? No. This is our way, colonel, and you will just have to be patient."

"I guess it sure beats the endless campaigning of an election," John muttered, earning a quick smile from Jason but continued bafflement from Ronon. "Never mind," he sighed. For once he missed the sarcastic input from Rodney.

"What weapons will you use?" Ronon asked, returning to the matter at hand.

"Sticks and knives. Hands and feet. No guns," she noted, casting a disparaging glance upon the weapons the men held. "If you will excuse me I must prepare."

The men watched her be escorted to a building by a group of women. Halling was being escorted to a separate building by the men. A quiet has descended upon the village, but at least the air of hostility had somewhat diminished.

John shook his head. "Now I've seen everything."

"I say we get the information we need and go. If we shoot a few that should prove Teyla's right to lead them."

"I can't tell if you're kidding or not," John remarked, eying the Satedan but the big man's expression was completely serious. Until a slight smirk tugged the corner of his mouth.

"Sir? I'm detecting a very faint energy reading but it's not from the settlement," Jason said, frowning at the scanner in his hand. He turned it this way and that, tapped a few buttons. "I can't isolate the source but I can determine a location."

John took the scanner, also frowned. "Damn. We need Rodney and of course he's not here. Major, you and Chuckles here check this out and radio me if you find anything. I'll stay here to um to um, to cheer Teyla on."

Jason smiled. "Don't forget the pompoms, sir."

"Cute. Get going."

"Yes sir. This way." Jason glanced at the Satedan, taking back the scanner from John before he walked briskly towards the tree line.

"You sure about this?" Ronon asked. He eyed the village, the people that were starting to return. All seemed serene once more, but anticipation was palpable.

"Yes. Don't worry. I'm sure this will be resolved quickly and we can go home for lunch. If not…" He patted his P90.

Ronon smiled. "Good thinking." He followed after Jason and quickly overtook the man.

John turned as the crowd was gathering again, forming a loose circle around a clear space where no doubt the combat would commence. "Nice day, huh? Good day for it." Silence as the crowd stood looking at him. "For a fight, I mean." Silence. No one could be lured into conversation. Not even a drink was on offer. "For ritualized combat." Silence as the crowd stood motionless, expectant. "For a…yeah, nice day," he sighed, rocking back and forth on his heels as he impatiently waited.

He really hated small talk.

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"Can you find this thing?" Ronon asked as the two men walked through the forest. Trees surrounded them, casting them in greenish gloom as the sunshine was blocked by the overhead canopy of leaves.

"Yes. I'm no scientist but I do have a basic understanding of how this works," Jason answered, indicating the scanner. "The Athosians do not use any kind of technology, do they?"

"No. At least they didn't before we left, but maybe that's changed."

"Were there many worlds out here that developed technology?"

"A few. You had to keep it secret though, from the Wraith. During their long periods of hibernation some planets would advance, but only to where they could conceal it."

"Like the Hoffans. Or the Genii. Or they made a deal with the devil, like the Olesians did. That must have been frustrating, to have your entire society halted in development. Here." Jason pointed and the two men followed a deer trail down a gentle slope. "The signal's a little stronger, but it's not a ZPM, at least it's not reading like a ZPM. If you don't mind me asking was Sateda like that?"

"Yes. You think your world is the first to develop beyond this?" He gestured, indicating the trees and the fields beyond them.

"No, sorry, I didn't mean that. If not for the Wraith I'm sure several worlds could have been comparable to ours, maybe even to the Ancients in terms of technological and industrial advances. I just find it rather strange that not many advanced to even the most basic standards of the Industrial Revolution, or developed locomotives or steam-powered engines or even the most basic of agricultural machinery and then the..."

Ronon sighed, realizing that this man might be able to match McKay for sheer verbosity about nothing that interested him.

Next time Sheppard would be the one to accompany the scientist, he decided.

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"And you're sure it's different?" Carson asked. For once he was out of the infirmary and in one of the biology labs in the lower levels of the city. It was quiet down here, peaceful. The sounds of bubbling water and the hum of the computers were the only sounds to break the monotony of silence. Scientists were coming and going, busy with their work.

Carson was in the back of the lab, beyond the traffic. Four grey walls and four grey towers overlook a space of flowers, cheery colors in an otherwise utilitarian setting that reminded him of a ruined castle. He shook the comparison from his mind, amused at his thoughts. The woman with him was certainly no beautiful princess to be rescued from a bower. He schooled his expression as she studied the slide in the microscope.

"Yes." Moira O'Meara sat back and turned the microscope for Carson to see. "The enzyme has been altered, probably by the Iratus queen bug and then by Todd's own antibodies as he was restored to life. The Wraith may have even altered it further but as you can see—"

"It's not the same," Carson finished for her as he peered into the lens. He sat back, thinking. "And the Wraith must have synthesized it for the treatment of the others to cure them and to save their lives or for mass production once they discovered its properties."

"Advanced abilities," Moira noted.

"Rapid feeding cycles and regeneration."

"Even possible immunity to the Hoffan plague."

"Uniting them for survival."

"Uniting them for a final conquest."

The two doctors eyed each other. The silence stretched, stretched.

"Do you always talk in shorthand?"

"What?" Carson turned at the irascible interruption. "Oh. Rodney. Lunch, och, sorry, I lost track of the time." He glanced at his watch, back to his friend.

"Yes, you did, and oh, thanks for noticing," Rodney snapped. "As it happens I don't have time to eat lunch much less suffer through your droning on and on about some new antibody or chemical analysis as I've got real science to do! Why are you hiding back here anyway?" he flared, glancing round the area. "It's not even a proper lab, let alone a proper work station!" He stormed out of the lab.

"Will he be all right?" Moira asked, staring after the angry man.

"Aye, love, he will be. He's more like himself now. I'll go grab a sandwich and appease him, just in case. Of course that means I will have to endure another lecture on quantum physics or how medicine isn't real science, but I'll manage."


	3. Chapter 3

Stargate Atlantis: Fool's Gold3

The two opponents circled, circled. Each held fighting sticks at the ready. Each bore distinct marks painted upon their faces, ritualized symbols in dark blue that harkened back to a far earlier time, a time of tribes and warriors and roaming bands. Each wore the distinct garb of the Athosians, the man a tanned leather vest and pants, the woman a tanned leather tank top and long slit skirt. Both the man's and the women's hair were tied up in an elaborate braid that was decorated with feathers and beads.

It was very tribal. It was very primal.

It was very boring to John as he stood with the crowd that surrounded the two as they circled, circled. John was becoming impatient but he held his tongue. He knew this was important to Teyla so he respected her wishes and her traditions, however primitive they might seem. He held his P90 cradled loosely in his arms. He could swing it up into action instantly, just in case.

He wished he had brought his Gameboy, however.

The first blow was struck. Halling hit Teyla's stick. She responded in kind. Another hit, a feint, circling, circling as they tested each other's resolve and responses. Stick on stick made a distinctly wooden knocking sound, clacking like Dutch clogs and John tried not to smile as he could only imagine trying to explain that reference.

The sun was a shining ball of gold in the blue, blue sky, blinding and hot. John surreptitiously glanced at his watch, realizing this could take hours. He slid on his sunglasses against the glare of light and rolled back on his heels, suppressing a sigh and resigning himself to wait.

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"Here." Jason crouched in the grass. At last clear of the trees the two men had traveled along a hilly expanse, following along a dry river bed. Jason's fingers dug around, encountering dirt and weeks and mushrooms. "There's something under here." He consulted the scanner. A faint reading was being detected and the Ancient technology was receiving it in wavy lines.

"Move." Ronon waited as the blond man stood. Ronon eyed the area. Angling his foot he gave the grassy hummock a solid kick. Dirt and weeds went flying. A large clod of dirt was dislodged, revealing an oddly shaped metal object. A small blue light blinked, blinked and blinked as it transmitted a faint signal that was inaudible. "What is that?"

Jason shook his head, staring down at the object. "I have no idea. We had better inform Colonel Sheppard and then find a way to turn it off but we need to—"

Ronon stomped on it.

"—keep it one piece," Jason uselessly finished as the machine whined and flew apart. Pieces flew every which way.

"Oh. Sorry," Ronon said, stepping back to view the carnage. Sheepishly he knelt and began to gather the myriad little pieces scattered over the grass and dirt and weeds.

Jason sighed. "So…how good are you at jigsaw puzzles?"

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The blow landed hard, spinning Teyla but she countered with a graceful, powerful kick that knocked Halling backwards. The crowd was utterly silent, watching. The only sounds were the grunts and groans of the two opponents. Both were becoming bruised but as yet no blood had been spilled. Both were dirty from having fallen several times upon the dirt, only to spring up and continue the combat. Both were tired but still fighting, each bearing feral grins although the contest was a serious one.

Where the sticks hit hands and feet followed in a mad dance of combat that demonstrated not only skill but restraint as easily the fight could have produced serious injuries. If not for the skill of the pair blood would have been spilling on the ground. Their movements became faster and faster and more blows landed hard. When one fell the other took the advantage but was quickly countered. What Halling had in strength and size Teyla could match in speed and dexterity.

It was an oddly equal contest, and could take hours.

"So…" John said quietly to the woman next to him, "how do you determine a winner?"

"The first one to yield loses the challenge."

"Ah." John sighed, forcing himself not to intervene as much as he wanted to interrupt if only to end the show. His radio crackled and he tapped his earpiece, shrugging at the glares directed towards him. He eased himself a few steps from the crowd that quickly closed around the two combatants. "Report," he said.

"Sir, we found the source of the energy signature. It's some sort of transmitter," Jason stated, on his hands and knees as he gathered the fragments onto a handkerchief that was spread on the grass next to him. Tiny silver shards and crystals gleamed in the sunlight like broken gems.

"Did you turn it off?" John asked.

"Yes sir. Well, Ronon—"

"Pick up what's left and return here, major," John ordered. He could easily guess the Satedan's solution and the resultant destruction. "McKay will want to examine it."

"Yes sir. It may take some time, sir. There are a lot of little pieces."

John sighed. "Very well. One thing we have is plenty of time. Sheppard out."

A cry made him whirl and shove his way to the front of the crowd as shouts were filling the air. He hoisted his gun, but lowered it with a smirk. Halling was on his knees as Teyla stood behind him, one stick poised under his chin and pressing his head backwards into her. John recalled being held like that and could sympathize with both the pain and the humiliation.

John reminded himself to never doubt again that Teyla had lost any of her skills.

"Do you yield?" Teyla rasped. At his silence she pressed the stick against his throat. "Do you yield?" she repeated tersely.

"I…I yield." The words were bitter, but torn from Halling's throat in a grunt, yet Teyla did not release him.

"Do you acknowledge me as your leader, as the leader of the Athosian people?"

"Yes."

Teyla freed him at last. Halling fell, catching himself as his hands hit the dirt instead of his face. Teyla dropped the stick to the ground. She wiped her sweaty hair from her face. The impromptu tattoos were running along her skin with her sweat. "Very well. All challenges have been met and answered. I , Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Tagan, wife of Kanaan, mother of Torren John have proven my right to lead our people."

Halling coughed as he moved to his feet. "I concur. We are agreed?"

The crowd clapped and cheered. The two combatants turned to each other. They bowed their heads, touched forehead to forehead in formal greeting.

Teyla stepped to John, smiling. "We will have a feast to celebrate, and then we shall speak of the Wraith."

"Great," John said, but before he could say more Teyla was led away by a group of women.

"Sir." Jason and Ronon joined him.

"What did we miss?" Ronon asked.

"Not much. Just Teyla beating Halling's ass." The men laughed. "The signal?"

Jason patted a pocket on his TAC vest. "It's in several pieces, sir, but it has stopped transmitting."

"Great." John eyed Ronon. The larger man merely shrugged. "We are invited to a celebration, and then we get some intel on the Wraith. Let's go. McKay's gonna have a field day with that thing, whatever it is, er was."

"It will give him something to do," Ronon said with a smile.

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John set down his cup of tea, frowning. "And that's it? Nothing?"

Halling shrugged as did several others around him. "Yes, colonel. We count ourselves fortunate that we have not been touched by the Wraith in several months, especially as you were too far to aid us. It was a difficult decision to refuse the Coalition, but despite your apparent abandonment of us we chose to remain loyal to Atlantis, having faith that you would return."

"And so we have," Ronon noted, eying the other man with amusement. Halling was a mess of bruises and cuts. Teyla was clad in her Atlantis BDUs once more, but unlike her former opponent she bore hardly a mark on her.

"We believed the City of the Ancients would return to us, as it belongs here."

"Yes, it does, and yes, we have," John endorsed, glancing round at the Athosians. "We had to act quickly to save our home world and to prevent the Wraith from attacking it. We left precipitously and everyone in the city had little choice but to go with us. We—"

"No, colonel," Teyla corrected. She looked at Halling, at the people crowded in the small dwelling. "I chose to stay to fight with Atlantis. Mr. Woolsey gave me the choice to remain in this galaxy, but I chose to travel with Atlantis and help in any way that I could. Do not interpret that as my choosing them over you. The simple fact is that without Atlantis none of us will ever stand a chance against the Wraith."

John glanced at Teyla, surprised. He had given her a graceful way out of any lingering resentment but instead she had thrown it back at him. He cleared his throat, stood. "Well, you've got our address and an IDC if you ever need us. We should be getting back to Atlantis now. Thanks."

Halling stood. "Very well. We still count Atlantis as our friend."

"And we count New Athosia as ours."

John paused as the team left the village. He watched Ronon and Jason head for the DHD. He turned as Teyla caught up with him and the two began to walk towards the Stargate. "I knew you could take him."

"As did I," she gravely said.

"So why aren't you celebrating like everyone else?" John asked. He had seen her pride, but also her solemnity, and knew something wasn't right. "I mean, you got what you wanted, right? You are still the leader of your people, and we still have an alliance with them. I say it's a win win. Teyla?" he prodded to her pensive silence.

Teyla sighed, met his gaze. Her face was clear of the tattoos. Her skin covered by her familiar Atlantis BDUs. Instead of fighting sticks there was a gun holstered at her side. "Yes. But I…I…" she sighed. "John…"

"What is it?" he asked, baffled.

Teyla sighed again. "I think I have made a mistake."


	4. Chapter 4

Stargate Atlantis: Fool's Gold4

John sighed, shrugged as he sat in Richard Woolsey's office. There was one thing he could say for the man; he had much more comfortable chairs than Elizabeth Weir ever had. John sat back, elbows on the armrests and long legs stretched out in front of him. "That's about it. They didn't have much intel on the Wraith, but at least they haven't been culled in months. And they remain loyal to us. One of the few," he grumbled.

"And they haven't been colonized," Richard noted, hands folded on his desk as he sat across from the military commander. "From what we can glean it seems to be worlds that are farther out in the galaxy that the Wraith are settling, so to speak. I've got Zelenka working on a map so we can chart their progress."

"Sounds good. Any luck making the Earth connection?"

Richard smiled briefly, sighed. "Not yet. We just don't have the power capacity. We will eventually, but it will be later rather than sooner. Which actually is not a bad thing, considering."

"What do you think the flak will be once they can contact us?" John asked, fingers drumming on the armrest as he shifted his position.

"The worst case scenario is that they recall us, most of us to face formal charges and then dismiss us from active duty. Then they would replace us with a new and more compliant team."

"What's the best case?"

"We get a slap on the wrist and some sanctions against us. Since we are in Pegasus now there's not much they can do. I think our government will realize what a mess it would be if we were to be recalled to Earth and just leave us out here out of everyone's hands."

"Except for the SGC," John noted, scowling. "And by extension the NID and the IOA and whatever else wants a piece of us. They'll want to make an example out of one of us."

"A whipping boy? Yes, I suppose you are right. The question is which one."

John shrugged. "Unless we can produce proactive results such as advanced weaponry and other toys that can be shipped back to Earth they will have to do something to punish us. At least that would be something in our favor," he mused, "bringing back a new weapon."

"Doctors O'Meara and Beckett have something as well. There's a strikingly different composition to the Wraith enzyme now. It would explain Todd's increased abilities as well as his enhanced strength and speed. Perhaps the Wraith have found a way to become immune to the Hoffan plague."

"Which will make them harder to kill. That's not good news," John remarked sourly.

"No, I'm afraid it's not. Do you think that could explain their behavior?"

John shrugged. "I have no idea." He stood. "I guess I better see what Beckett's got on this. I just hope it doesn't involve that damn Iratus bug," he grumbled, rubbing his neck in memory.

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"What is it?" Ronon stood, arms folded across his chest, staring down at the table in the physics lab. Hundreds of minute pieces were scattered across it. Bits of glass and metal and crystals and tiny wires created a myriad of nothing.

Rodney glanced up at him, suspecting sarcasm but the Satedan appeared serious. "What is it? You hardly left me enough to work with here!" he snapped. "I knew I should have gone on this mission! Even the scanner's readouts tell me nothing because it wasn't set to the correct frequency! What the hell were you thinking?"

"To stop the transmission."

"Well, mission accomplished! While you were at it why didn't you just blast the thing to oblivion?"

Ronon smiled. "I just used my foot. That was enough."

"More than enough." Rodney sighed, pulled a large magnifying lens to him. He positioned it over the fragments and switched on the light. He grabbed a pair of tweezers and began to carefully sort through the mess of debris. Shards glittered up at him.

"What is it?" Ronon repeated.

"I don't know yet! Isn't there something else you could be doing?" Rodney snapped, unable to work with someone towering over him, watching his every move. "Like shooting something or killing something or beating the crap out of some marines?"

Ronon smiled at the physicist's annoyance. He was beginning to understand why John enjoyed baiting the scientist so much. "Not today. What is it? Wraith?"

Rodney sighed. "No."

"Earth?"

"No."

"Genii?"

"No."

"Ancient?"

"No."

"Then what?" Ronon asked.

"It's alien, all right?" Rodney snapped, glaring. "Go away! Wait! At least bring me a sandwich if you're going to hover like that!"

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John strolled down the hallways of Atlantis, heading for the lower levels as Carson was not in the infirmary and John thought he would try the biology labs. Sounds drew him. He hears a song that echoes cheerly from the river winding clearly. He shook his head, as the noise of the water bubbling in the walls competed with the faint tones of music and then the tinkling of women's laughter. He smiled, nearing, drawn to the feminine merriment, especially after he heard his name.

"Seriously!" Susan Williams was stating, hands on her hips. She shook her head and her blond hair fluttered around her. "You remember how those gray pants were!"

"They clung to every long, lean line of his body," Julie Armstrong noted with a smirk.

"They left little to the imagination, that's for sure," Katie Brown agreed, sounding like a schoolteacher scolding an errant student.

"To every fine, fine asset," one giggled.

"Not to mention the unmentionable P90." Laughter resounded, momentarily drowning the music.

"Especially when he would walk slow and swagger, oh my God!" one enthused.

"I miss the gray pants!" Susan mourned. Laughter circled the room.

"Like that black t-shirt," sighed Laura Pendleton as she stood near the table. "Here."

Moira O'Meara was standing on a table, adjusting a monitor. She took the proffered speaker and reached up to attach it to the wall, adjusting it so it would fit. "I wonder if that's why he stopped wearing the gray pants," she mused. "Do you think he knew? Naughty colonel," she saucily scolded, hips swinging to the music. The women softly laughed, began to sing out loud with the song that was playing. Moira began to sing, joining in the chorus of the song playing. "'_I'm the only one who'll walk across the fire for you. And I'm the only one who'll drown in my desire for you. It's only fear that makes you run, the demons that you're hiding from; when all your promises are gone I'm the only one…'_"

She paused. Silence had fallen like a rock. Every voice was stilled but hers. "Hey! Why am I the only one singing?" she asked.

"I wouldn't exactly call that singing."

She froze at the familiar voice, male, rasping and low. She gulped. Slowly she turned to see John lounging in the doorway, a smile of amusement on his handsome face, in his green eyes. He straightened, sauntering towards her. The women parted, all silent, all clumped together like a herd of deer caught in the headlights of a speeding car.

John stopped, waiting to see what she would do and say. He had quite been enjoying the show, Moira on the table, swinging her hips and a very shapely rear in snug khaki pants, her green shirt lifting as she raised her arms, her long brown hair swinging messily. The monitor was at an angle as she couldn't quite reach it all the way, even on tippy-toe. A single rose was perched in a vase on the table. The bud was slowly beginning to bloom, pink petals opening shyly as she stepped carefully around it.

The discussion had both flattered and amused him. It has also surprised him, this frank discussion of his attractions and physical attributes by the normally serious and ever practical female scientists. Moira's off-key singing had both annoyed and charmed him.

Moira stepped onto a chair, then to the floor with as much dignity as she could muster. She snatched her white lab coat and pulled it on, as if restoring it would erase the silliness of what John had witnessed. She covered herself hoping any blatant emotion would be concealed as well from his assessing gaze. Boldly she stepped to him, alone. "Colonel Sheppard, did you need something?" She slid her hands into the pockets of her lab coat, wishing she could dismiss the blush she felt warming her face.

"Besides earplugs?" he quipped, earning a scowl from her. He smiled, tilted his head to one side as his gaze encompassed her before locking with her brown eyes again. She was a plain woman but somewhat pretty as she faced him. Her brown eyes were expressive, emotive. "As a matter of fact, yes, I need the information about the altered Wraith enzyme."

"Doctor Beckett has it and he forwarded it to you," Moira replied sternly, trying not to smile as it appeared the dashing military commander was actually flirting with her. She flexed her fingers in the pockets of her lab coat.

"Ah. Thank you." He glanced at the women staring, staring at him. "Ladies." He turned, headed for the exit. He paused, returned to her. "Oh, and Doctor O'Meara," he said, gaze on the embroidered name on her lab coat which just happened to be above the curve of one breast.

"Yes, Colonel Sheppard?" she asked, as he was still staring at her chest, his perfect lips forming a smirk as he was deliberately being rude.

John let his gaze remain there a little too long until he looked up to see her admonishment. He winked at her. "For the record…I knew." He smiled again and sauntered out of the lab, leaving the women to stare after him.

He smiled hearing their burst of renewed hilarity.


	5. Chapter 5

Stargate Atlantis: Fool's Gold5

Carson frowned as he sat back, drinking a cup of tea. He touched the console and it flared to life. Without having to type a command the data he sought appeared when all that he did was touch a key. It was as startling the sixth time as it had been the first time. He set down his cup of tea, staring for a moment at his reflection dimly rendered in the monitor.

It was odd being a clone.

It wasn't that he was ever treated like one, like a carbon copy of Carson Beckett that was not quite the same as the original. Everyone seemed to have accepted him as Carson Beckett and treated him as Carson Beckett. He even felt like Carson Beckett. Still, knowing that he was in fact a clone had altered the way he thought about himself, at times. It had altered how he considered his burgeoning relationship with Alison Porter.

He decided that treading cautiously was wise.

Unless it was his suddenly stronger connection to Atlantis that was affecting him. Carson turned from the monitor, from the man on the screen and eyed the infirmary. His infirmary. He couldn't quite put it into words, this new connection he felt. Somehow he was more responsive to the city and the city was more responsive to him.

The city didn't seem to care that he was a clone.

Carson turned back to the screen. The data awaited him, patient, not caring if he was a clone either. He smiled, feeling foolish. He wanted to talk to John about the city but John was gruff to the point of being rude and uncommunicative. Carson realized that for John the connection must be even stronger and perhaps more unsettling. Perhaps a few beers would loosen the other man's tongue and his guard would be let down.

"Doctor Beckett? Carson?"

At the female voice he turned, smiled. A pretty marine was standing, uncertain, holding up one arm that was bound in a sling. "Sorry, love, I was miles away. Let's have a look at that sprained wrist now, shall we?"

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John was talking, albeit he was giving orders to an assembly of team leaders and not revealing anything personal. He stood in the armory. All faces were grave, focused on his words as they listened to his orders. An array of weaponry was behind him as if to emphasis his points.

Ann Teldy listened attentively but she couldn't help but study the military commander. He was so serious, solemn, hands gesturing at times, feet shifting as if he couldn't keep still. She rued the fact that this man, easily the most handsome man on base just happened to be her boss and her military superior. Her thoughts were far from military, however, as her gaze perused his form clad in black. His dark brown hair and his expressive green eyes, the sexy straps of his thigh holster, the military boots, the stern demeanor and his low voice all combined to make her smile, but she schooled her expression.

It was against regulations to harbor such thoughts about her commanding officer.

"And TAC vests at all times," John finished, nodding for emphasis. "No exceptions. And no civilians will be using the 'Gate until further notice."

"Sir?" Ann piped up suddenly. "What if a scientist is needed on a mission?"

John returned her gaze, assessing the competent major in front of him. He silently assessed the pretty blond woman who was addressing him. "It depends upon the mission. Exceptions can be made if absolutely necessary, but for routine missions there are to be no civilians. Understood?" His gaze encompassed everyone. A chorus of assents filled the air. "Fine. Dismissed." He waited a moment as the men and women turned to go. "Teldy."

Ann froze at his summons. She returned to him. "Sir?"

He smiled at her gravity. Her pretty face was composed and calm. Her attractive blond hair was bound into a bun behind her head. Her blue eyes were serious but challenging. "Does this concern Doctor Porter?" he guessed. He recalled that her team was composed entirely of women. John had no problem with that, as long as they were all marines, which they weren't.

"Yes sir. It concerns any scientist, to be honest, but yes, specifically Doctor Porter. She is a valuable member of my team, like your Doctor McKay."

"No. No one is like McKay. Thank God." They shared a smile. "I understand, major, but my orders stand, for now. We aren't the most popular kid on the block anymore so we have to be cautious and I don't want any civilians in harm's way." The memory of Keller's fate surfaced but he shoved it back to the shadows to be buried with the others.

"Yes sir. Doctor Porter has had firearms training and self-defense courses," she informed him, "and as you may recall she was quite competent on that mission when we encountered Michael's hybrid experiments."

"Yes, she was, but things are different now and my decision is that all civilians are to be restricted to base."

"Excuse me, sir, but does that also include your own team?" she boldly asked.

"No, for obvious reasons which, quite frankly, I do not have to explain to you," he stated, his voice containing a little iron.

"Teyla and Ronon were the ones who instructed Doctor Porter, sir," Ann added, as if that could change his mind.

John had to smile at her persistence, arguing for her friend and team member. "Good to know, but that doesn't change my orders. Unless she is specifically needed for a specific reason for a specific mission she is restricted to base."

"That's a lot of specifics, sir," Ann noted, alternately disappointed and charmed.

"Yeah, it is," John agreed. He held her gaze a moment, considering. "Wanna grab some lunch?"

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Teyla was busily fussing over her infant son. She sang to him, cuddled and kissed him, tickled him to make him giggle and gurgle at her. She smiled, bestowing one last kiss before adjusting the blanket over him and then softly stepping away from the cradle. It was a private moment between mother and child and Kanaan did not wish to intrude, but he watched from the doorway, smiling.

Teyla stood a moment, gazing down at her child. Her son was more precious to her than anything or anyone. A child bearing the same Gift she bore, the ability to sense the Wraith. She prayed that someday perhaps such a Gift would no longer be necessary. She would rejoice to see that her child could live in a world without the fear of the Wraith.

Every mother had that wish for their child for several generations now.

Teyla met her husband's gaze, smiled and followed him into the adjoining room. "He is finally settled for the evening," she softly stated. "He was quite fussy but now he is fine."

"He missed his mother. As did I." Kanaan took her hand and led her to sit near the window. "What is troubling you, Teyla?"

"You know me too well." She glanced round the room. Candles softly flickered, casting tremulous shadows on the walls. She met his concerned gaze. His quiet strength was a comfort. "I wanted to talk to you first before I made a final decision."

"I think you already have reached a decision, my love."

She laughed. "Yes. I have. But I wish to consult with you first. Although I won the fight I do not feel that I…" Words failed her and she shrugged. She touched her sore cheek, dropped her hand to her lap.

"You have been our leader for many years, Teyla. You have done an outstanding service for our people. It was you who fostered our alliance with Atlantis. It was you who helped settle our people, or what is left of them on New Athosia. It is no longer enough, is it? You have outgrown the Athosian ways."

She stared at him, startled by his perspicacity. Although a quiet man, often overlooked and overshadowed Kanaan was very observant and thoughtful. He did not feel the need to claim the spotlight unless it was necessary, and he rarely revealed his emotions except when he was with Teyla and their son. In many ways he reminded her of John, except Kanaan was more open to talking, to sharing, to expressing his feelings compared to the closed-off, taciturn and at times socially awkward colonel. She nodded. "Yes…I…how did you…"

Kanaan smiled. "As have I, Teyla. I have been thinking on this for quite a while now, but I was unsure how to broach the subject with you. Our Athosian ways are time-honored and ancient, but that is the problem. The outdated rituals. The life of nomadic settlements. The belief in the all-powerful, all-beneficent Ancients. I have been training to be an engineer here and the more I see, the more I learn I wish to stay here. I wish our son to stay here and have the chance to better himself."

"You were not so amenable earlier," she gently reminded.

"No, I was not," he agreed. "But after being brainwashed by Michael to the extent of almost losing you and our son I tend to look at things quite differently now. Our people must grow, evolve, or become stagnant in their ways."

"I feel the same," she said, as relief swept through her. "I do not wish to abandon our ways, but I cannot pretend I feel the same reverence for them I once did. I will not abandon our people but I do not think I can be their leader any longer." She stood, staring out at the peaceful night. The waters gently lapped under the rising moon.

"Nor will I abandon our ways, our traditions. But our place is here, Teyla, with the Lanteans. We can better help our people here, in the city of the Ancients. What we learn here we can teach them, if they are willing. We can no longer rely on the past to save us. We need the future, and the future lies in Atlantis. And Torren will be much safer here from the Wraith, and with his Gift he may prove to be useful to Atlantis."

Teyla turned to him. She smiled as he drew her into his arms. She kissed him. "When did you become so wise, husband?"

He smiled. "I learned from my wife. When will you inform Halling?"

She considered. "Tomorrow. I am certain the colonel will allow me to return briefly to visit my people and to cement our alliance. I must find the right words."

"That has never been a problem for you. In fact you often have too many."

"Kanaan!" she scolded, but laughed as he pulled her towards the bed with a playful wink.


End file.
